


And I Dream of You

by we-killed-parker (wekilledparker)



Series: Prompt Fills from Tumblr [11]
Category: The Creatures | Cow Chop RPF
Genre: Civilian Trevor initially, FakeChop, Gun Violence, M/M, Prompt Fill, Russian gang member Aleks, Soulmates AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-04-16 02:55:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14155110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wekilledparker/pseuds/we-killed-parker
Summary: (prompt fill from Tumblr)The one where soulmates dream about what the other is experiencing. Trevor lives a mundane life, but gets a thrill from seeing Aleks' exciting life in his dreams.





	And I Dream of You

Trevor had a notebook that he kept in the nightstand next to his bed. The binding of the book was worn and cracked from being opened to a page near the middle that it would flip open to with barely any effort. The page had notes in the margins, scrawls of random information, words picked out of conversation that his mind had brought back into the waking world.

Dominating the middle of the page was a sketch of a man. He appeared a couple years older than Trevor, young, maybe twenty-one at the time but a weariness behind his eyes as he stood in front of a mirror in a dimly lit bathroom and towel drying his freshly bleached blond hair. The first time he had ever seen his soulmates reflection in a dream.

The sketch was well defined, the lines having been traced over several times through the last four years. Every morning Trevor would jot down anything he could remember from his dream and then flip back to the first sketch. Sometimes what he wrote was something Aleks, his soulmate, had said. Sometimes a sketch of the foreign city skyline. Sometimes it was panicked rambling because he’d woken up while Aleks was being chased down by a rival gang, bullets whizzing past his head as he blazed through the streets on a motorcycle.

Those happened more and more often these days. Most of the conversations he would over hear were spoken in Russian, the words tense and unintelligible to him. Not that he hadn’t tried, he really wanted to learn some day, but between the three jobs he needed just to survive in this city, he barely had enough time to sleep and dream of his soulmate, let alone learn a language.

Trevor had a love/hate relationship with the fact his soulmate lived so recklessly. He hated that Aleks seemed to have no care for whether he lived or died, a total disregard to the thought of ensuring he stayed alive long enough to meet Trevor. But Trevor would be lying if he said he didn’t like the rush he would get upon waking up with his heart pounding, the thrill of a fight or a car chase making his hands shake and feel like he could take on the world.

And because of the risks, Aleks lived well. His clothes expensive, his cars fast, companionship of any person he chose, and a never ending source of good drugs and strong alcohol.

In comparison, Trevors life was boring, his days and evenings spent stocking shelves and mopping floors, the spare time he had being spent with his roommates playing video games or trying to sleep so he could escape to Aleks’ world. It was menial and boring.

So he changed it. Living through Aleks’ eyes gave him confidence, a sureness that he could do that too. It took time, a few weeks, but he finally got a connection through his roommates’ friends’ drug dealers’ cousins’ boyfriend who knew a guy looking for the equivalent of an intern, someone who could do clean up and maybe even hold a gun from time to time, though unlike an intern he would actually get a bit of pay. He definitely knew his way around a mop to do the clean up and he had experienced enough shoot outs through Aleks to lie about his gun experience. He’d seen Aleks strip and clean a gun so many times he was able to do it with a decent amount of confidence even though it was the first time a gun had ever been placed in his hands.

He was relieved to discover he even knew a couple of the guys on the crew already, James and Joe, both of whom he’d met in passing during the occasional night shift at the grocery store. Joe had always been the more friendly of the two, chatting with Trevor when he was stocking chips while him and James filled their baskets with snacks. James had always seemed to want to just get his stuff and go during those encounters, but gave Trevor a nod of recognition as Brett rattled off some of the duties he would have during their first meeting.

A handshake and an address to be at bright and early in the morning later and he was crawling into his own bed, falling asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

That night Aleks did a lot of writing, never knowing if Trevor was actually dreaming and watching through his eyes, but he wrote, the same things over and over again, asking what the hell Trevor thought he was doing, why had he been looking for someone like the men he met that day, why he had accepted a gun from anyone and why hadn’t he gone to work like he usually did. Aleks’ writing was messy, the letters looping together as he wrote as fast as he could.

For the first time in four years Trevor didn’t open his notebook that morning, pulling his jeans on and shoving his feet into his sneakers with grim determination. Why did Aleks think he was the only one who could do this, why couldn’t he be happy that his soulmate was trying to better his life financially? He tossed the notebook deep into the drawer, making a point to not add anything just in case Aleks was watching. It was petty and childish and he regretted it right away, but glancing at his phone he realized he didn’t have time anyways. He hurried out the door, not wanting to be late on his first day.

~~~~~

How the hell he wound up sitting behind the wheel of a van with his boss silhouetted in the headlights the night of his first day on the job, Trevor couldn’t say. Yet here he was, parked under a bridge with a gun within his reach, James in the passenger seat next to him, and Joe hidden in cover with a sniper rifle somewhere to his left.

“Stop it.” James said.

Trevor ducked his head and clenched his hand around the steering wheel, stilling his anxious tapping against the firm leather. “Sorry.”

James glanced sideways at him before training his eyes back on Brett, who was leaning against the front of the van, staring into the darkness. “I get it man. Nerves. But don’t worry about it, this is pretty routine for us.”

Trevor’s eyes roamed over the crates at Brett’s feet and he tensed up as he spotted headlights turning onto the little side road ahead of them, turning in their direction. “Why do you guys trust I won’t turn you in? What if I’m, you know, a… snitch or something?”

James turned to him with a wide, terrifying grin on his face, his white teeth glinting in the darkness. “Are you a snitch, Trevor?”

‘Well, no, but-”

“Then we shouldn’t have a problem.” The words were followed by the sound of a gun cocking, metal against metal a clear threat whether it was aimed at him in the dark or not.

He swallowed hard and stared out the windshield, eyes on Brett as he absentmindedly strangled the steering wheel. He heard James hum in the affirmative about something, responding to something Brett or Joe said in his earpiece. Trevor didn’t have one of those and wasn’t sure how to feel about that. James would tell him if there was something he needed to know, he supposed.

The other vehicle pulled up and a man with a shiny bald head stepped into the pool of light with Brett, the two greeting each other jovially. The two seemed comfortable enough with each other, but Trevor felt James tense up and he quietly hissed Joes name.

“What? What’s wrong?” Trevor asked, looking between James and the two men in the headlights.

“Shut up.” James snapped. Trevor saw the light glint off the barrel of James’ gun just as a shot rend the air, the glass of the windshield shattering out from around a point in the middle.

“Joe!” James yelled as he threw the passenger door open, bracing himself against the door as he fired in the direction of the other vehicle.

Trevor froze, a deer in the headlights. The windshield shattered fully, glass showering him as a searing pain shot through his arm and he screamed.

“Get down!” James hollered at him. Brett rolled behind the crates, shooting blindly into the dark before scrambling for the driver side door, shoveling Trevor off of the seat and into the narrow space between the front seats.

“Let’s go!” Brett roared at James, ramming it into reverse before James’ door was even fully closed.

Trevor clutched at his arm, looking down to see blood seeping between his fingers. He clenched his eyes and threw his head back, screaming through grit teeth.

Brett and James were yelling at each other and yelling for Joe, their voices loud and overlapping so Trevor couldn’t even make out what they were saying. He could feel himself passing out, the pain so intense he wasn’t even sure he wanted to fight it.

A sharp turn cemented the decision for him, his head cracking against the foot bracket of the back seat and his vision went black.

~~~~~

Dreams tended to get a little weird when both partners were sleeping. A lot of the time neither partner would remember the dream in the morning, sleeping soundly through the night, but sometimes the dream would devolve into a nightmare, bouncing back and forth between them and adding layers each time.

Trevors best guess for his last dream was some sort of mental feedback, or an out of body experience. There wasn’t any other explanation he could think of for why he had dreamt of himself lying in a cot in the corner of the warehouse.

He didn’t open his eyes right away when he woke up, contemplating the last image in his mind. He would have to write about this in his dream diary, it was too weird not to.

He could hear Brett speaking somewhere nearby, his voice too quiet and low to make out what he was saying. Another voice, a little more familiar than Brett’s but misplaced feeling, said something in return and then Brett’s boots were squeaking across the floor, fading in the direction of the kitchen.

Trevor opened his eyes. A lamp on a table at the foot of the bed was the only source of light, leaving the area blessedly dim for his eyes. He could feel the throbbing lump on his head without even touching it with his hand from when he got tossed around in the van. He blinked and rubbed his eyes as they adjusted.

He heard someone inhale sharply as he moved to sit up and then there were hands on his arm and back, supporting him as he pushed himself back so he could lean against the pillows. The wound in his upper arm ached, but it looked to have been expertly bandaged and he suspected there were at least a couple of stitches under the white wrappings.

“Thanks,” he said as the hands disappeared. The person stayed standing next to him, wringing long fingers together before sliding them deep into their pockets. Trevor ran a hand over his eyes again and peered up at the person, trying to figure out who it was. A shock of familiar bleached white hair tilted towards him as Aleks looked at him with concern twisting his brow. “Oh. Holy shit.”

Aleks glanced away, his lips thinning as he suppressed a smile. “Hi.”

Trevor stared dumbfounded for a moment as he took in the sight before him. He was actually here, in the flesh, face to face. He smirked at Aleks. “Finally.”

“Yeah, what does that mean?” Aleks asked. His voice was quiet, his words slow as he thought about each of them, consciously trying to subdue his accent.

“Was waiting for you to come visit me first. You’ve seen the way I live, no hecking way I could afford to fly to Russia,” Trevor said with a grin, “Didn’t realize all I needed to do was join a gang and get shot to get you over here.”

Aleks’ face fell into a frown and he looked down. He glanced over his shoulder at the rest of the warehouse full of various paraphernalia for criminal activities. “It’s not what I wanted for you.”

“Working three jobs was though?”

Aleks ducked his head and flopped back into the chair again. “No.”

It was silent for a moment, questions flying through Trevor’s head. Instead of taking turns, they all poured out at once. “Why did you come? When did you get here? Should you even be here? How long are you staying?”

Aleks’ mouth twitched into a smile and he shook his head. “You didn’t go to work yesterday. I missed the… mundanity of it. Got the first flight out after you agreed to meet this group yesterday morning. And now I’m glad I did, you dumb fuck.”

Trevor blinked and arched a brow at him. “Oh, that’s how this is going to be, huh? Ya dick.”

They stared at each other a moment before they both cracked and descended into giggles. Trevor immediately fell in love with Aleks’ breathy laughter.

Brett cleared his throat as he walked back into the area, interrupting them. “Joe brought pizza, if either of you would like some.” He pointed at each of them in turn. “And then the three of us are going to have a chat.”

Trevor looked at Brett and then at Aleks, wide eyed. _He’s gonna kill us, isn’t he,_ he wanted to say, but Aleks shook his head at him. He didn’t doubt Aleks would be willing to fight Brett if necessary, but he wasn’t positive who would win in that particular fight.

“If you want to eat, come and get it.” Brett said as he walked away.

“Should he be getting up right now?” Aleks asked even as he put his hand under Trevor’s good arm to help him up.

Brett waved his hand dismissively as he turned towards the kitchen again. “Just don’t let him shoulder check anyone and he’ll be fine.”

Aleks hesitated with his hand on Trevor’s arm before ducking down and holding Trevor’s arm across his shoulder and his own arm wrapped around Trevor’s torso, encouraging him to lean on Aleks.

“Oh, uh, thanks.” Trevor said. He didn’t feel like he needed help, but he wasn’t going to push his soulmate away.

Aleks finally broke the silence as they walked together across the warehouse. “I see now why I always feel so tall in my dreams.”

Trevor snorted, a smile on his face as he looked down at Aleks. “It’s cause you’re fucking short, dude.”

“Alright if that’s how it’s going to be, I’m going back to Russia.”

Trevor grinned down at him and tightened his grip around Aleks’ shoulders.


End file.
